


The Prince and the Peasant

by DenimPrincess23



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Non-specified time period, Period Typical Attitudes, medieval setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28520844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenimPrincess23/pseuds/DenimPrincess23
Summary: The tale which follows is one in which roles are reversed, and norms are changed.
Kudos: 1





	The Prince and the Peasant

The tale which follows is one in which roles are reversed, and norms are changed.

**********

Prince William had always preferred the life of a stable boy: spending time taking care of his father’s horses, and the freedom that he felt when away from the formalities of his life as the crown prince. So one day, he concocted a plan to do just that: escape his life for a couple hours as often as he could. William began by finding an old acquaintance (for what royal can truly be a friend to a peasant?), a young man by the name of Tom, and telling him his plan. This plan was seemingly simple: Tom would trade places with William during his riding lessons so that he could have a few hours of freedom. Tom was, naturally, reluctant to agree to such a proposition, for the law of the land stated that the intentional impersonation of nobility bore the penalty of flogging, or worse, death. But, Tom could not bring himself to argue with his prince, and so agreed to help him with his plan. A couple of times a week, before the riding lesson, William and Tom switched clothes (they were the same age and size) and William led his horse with the “prince” out to the practice lawn, far enough away from the castle that Tom appeared to all to be the prince while riding. The riding instructor, an elder knight, Randolph, did not approve, but what could he say to dissuade such an adamant young royal. This went on for weeks: the prince mucking out stables and feeding and watering the King’s horses and the stable hand becoming a master horseman. Everything seemed to be working perfectly.

Until the day the King came out to the riding lawn to inspect his son’s progress. What he found made him angrier and more confused than he had been in a great many days (because kings have a great many reasons to become irritated, often). He found, not his son, but a peasant astride his son’s horse and wearing his son’s riding clothes.

The first words came out of his mouth as a bellow, “WHERE IS MY SON?”

This stopped both the instructor and the false prince in their tracks and sent their steeds into a frenzy. As soon as their mounts were calm, they both dismounted in the presence of a very red-face monarch. The horse master and the peasant quickly bowed and knelt, respectively, to avoid even more of the king’s wrath; both men seemed to quiver under the king’s burning gaze.

The king spoke again, this time much more quietly, but with no less menace, “Will neither of you give an answer to his king?”

Tom kept his head down and his mouth shut because the Horse Master outranked him in every respect, and he dared not speak out of turn. The elderly knight was respected by the king and was afforded the right to stand before him; at this point, he took a knee alongside Tom, much to the surprise of everyone present.

“Sire, your son is working in the stables at this present moment.”

At this, the king let loose his pent up tirade. “Working in the stables! Why on earth would he be in the stables! And how did this peasant come to be riding his horse! And wearing his clothes!”

When he had finally ceased, the horse master began again, “Sire, his highness the prince wished to spend more time in the stables with the horses than riding them. He arranged with this young man to trade apparel with him every day on which he had riding lessons with me, thus disguising himself and this young man. I said nothing of it because I would not argue with his highness’ wishes.”

The realization that his son had orchestrated this entire charade did not do much to improve the king’s mood. He determined to sort it out, but first, he needed a brandy. Turning to his guards, who accompanied him everywhere, he gave the short command, “Bring him,” indicating Tom. The king’s guards dragged the terrified young man onto his feet and after the king, who was already storming off the field, leaving the horse master where he knelt.

The king did not even go to the stables but sent a page running to fetch his son with a message that somewhat disturbed the prince. “His majesty the king… demands that you present yourself… to him… in his audience chamber… immediately,” the young page panted, having run like the devil was after him to deliver his charge. William was stunned for a moment and could not think why his father would summon him thus, and then the realization struck him. The page had been sent to the stables, by his father. He had found out. So, the prince obediently followed after the page, at a much slower pace than the young boy had previously taken.

When they reached the audience hall, the page sunk into the shadows, leaving the prince to enter alone. What he saw made his heart drop to his stomach. The king was seated on his throne of judgment, and Tom was kneeling at the base of the dais, surrounded by guards. The rest of the chamber, usually buzzing with nobles and servants, was eerily empty. _What have I done?_ William thought, in desperation. He saw no other option but to present himself to his father and await judgment. The king did not acknowledge him until William was parallel with the posse of guards and had rendered a deep, formal bow, saying, “You summoned me, your Majesty?”

(The scene was so strange as to confound anyone who would happen to walk in at that very moment—it would seem that the prince was being held by castle guards and a peasant freely stood in the presence of the king.)

The king, having already decided what was to be done (he knew the law better than most lawyers), looked down on his son, who stood with his head bowed respectfully.

“We summoned you here as a witness in the trial of Thomas Godfrey, a peasant of our realm, who is being tried for crimes against our royal family, namely impersonating our son, the Crown Prince. We have heard from one witness, our Horse Master, Sir Randolph, and would hear from you.” The king spoke with such formality and seriousness that William could not keep himself from looking directly at his father in disbelief.

 _Could he actually think that Tom had done this on his own? Would he really prosecute him as the criminal when he must know that I’m the one?_ These and many more thoughts swept through his mind like a flood, and only his father’s voice pulled him out of it.

“What have you to say in this matter?” Realizing he was still staring dumbfounded at his father, William turned his gaze on Tom, who knelt amidst four guards, with his head bowed low and his eyes downcast. He seemed as pale as death, for he was still wearing the black riding jacket that William had given him earlier that morning. _I cannot let him pay for my mistakes._

Turning once again toward his father, William replied,” Majesty, this man is innocent of the charges presented against him.”

“Are you saying, then, that this man has not been impersonating a member of the royal family and somehow came by your clothes through magic,” was the calculating reply.

“I am saying, Majesty, that I am the guilty man, for I forced a subordinate to go against his conscience and break the law, fully knowing the consequences. This man is honorable, trustworthy, and obedient, and I should never have taken advantage of those qualities for my own amusement.” When he had finished saying all this, William let out a ragged sigh, for it had taken all his strength to admit his mistake. The king, though moved by his son’s confession, knew that he could not yield in his duty to carry out justice. No matter how the situation had come to be, the young peasant before him still wore the apparel of a prince of the realm and had knowingly acted to deceive those around him for many weeks. He took a deep breath and pronounced his judgment.

“We have heard the testimony of the witnesses, and based upon the facts of the case and our understanding of the laws of this land, we find the accused guilty of the charges against him.”

Upon hearing the guilty verdict, William let out an involuntary cry and fell to his knees. “My Lord King, I beg you to have mercy on this man,” he pleaded, hoping against hope that he might change his father’s mind. His sudden outburst shocked everyone in the room, including the king, who had not gauged how deeply his son felt about this matter. To see his son, the crown prince, kneeling before him literally begging on behalf of a peasant was something he had never imagined. So, he decided to listen.

“If you would speak, we will listen to your appeal.” There was a sigh let loose at that moment, but no one was sure from which kneeling figure it came.

“Sire, I cannot let this innocent man suffer the punishment for a crime I committed. I abused my authority as a prince of the realm and involved a subordinate in crime without a second thought to his welfare. In this, I believe that I have committed the greater crime, and I beg you, sire, to punish me instead. I will willingly take whatever punishment the law demands.”

Suddenly, a new voice rang out in the hall, “No, Will, you cannot!” All heads turned toward the sound, whose source had remained silent since this entire ordeal had begun, what seemed like an eternity ago. Tom, now staring wide-eyed at his prince, seemed to beg with his whole being that the man who defended him would not do this terrible thing. For to him, there was nothing more unthinkable than his prince and lord taking the punishment for him. One of the guards seemed to recover the quickest, for he drew back his hand and brought it down on the back of Tom’s head, exclaiming, “How dare you address the Crown Prince, dog!” The blow knocked Tom forward so violently that he did not have a chance to catch himself before he was sprawled out flat on the floor before the throne.

“Enough!” bellowed the king, and looking pointedly at the offending guard, he said, “You would do well to remember where you are before you deal out judgments as if in a drunken brawl.” Appropriately chastened, the guard lowered his head and murmured, “yes, Majesty,” before grabbing one of Tom’s arms and dragging him back to his knees. Once that ordeal was through, though it took only a matter of moments, the king turned his attention to Tom, who had regained some of his composure and was again drilling holes into the floor with his stare. Until now, the young man had said no word in his own defense, though it was his legal, if not fully encouraged, right. The king wanted to know why.

“Young man, why have you spoken out now, yet remained silent throughout the proceedings?”

Without looking up, Tom began slowly, “Majesty, I…I said nothing because I am guilty. His Highness never forced me to do anything. I knew what the consequences of my actions were, but I chose to act none the less. I spoke out because I could not see his Royal Highness punished in my place.” At this, he directed his explanation, and his gaze, to the prince, “Forgive me, my Lord Prince, but I could remain silent no longer. Your Highness gave me the chance of a lifetime, and for that, I will be eternally grateful. It was my gratitude that gave me a voice.” The king sat bewildered. Two young men knelt before him, both of whom were fighting to keep the other from punishment, and he did not know which to listen to. They were both guilty, by their own admission, of breaking the law, and yet both were showing admirable selflessness and repentance. He did not want to punish young Thomas, now that his son had fought so passionately for him, but he could not punish his son, for it was also written in the law that no member of the royal family may be subjected to flogging. His sense of justice, however, would not let him acquit them both. Then, a thought struck him. He knew what he would do. 

His father had chosen the perfect punishment for them, the prince mused, his back beginning to ache. How fitting the judgment passed against them, thought the peasant, his head beginning to feel the effects of the noonday sun. They were both in the village square, upon the scaffold that usually held the executioner’s block. Thomas Godfrey was seated on the Prince’s throne in full ceremonial robes, complete with golden circlet around his head. Crown Prince William stood bent half over with his head and hands in the stocks, wearing the same thing he had been caught wearing in the stables. They had been sentenced to sit (or stand) there for two days, each taking his turn in the stocks for a day while the other had to sit and watch.


End file.
